


Paradigm

by pidders



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Brief mention of admiration for the female form, Delusions, Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mental Abuse, Pain, Physical Abuse, Rape, Sexual Inexperience, Slight pining, Swearing, Thoughts and descriptions of death/dying, Threats of Gun Violence, Underage Sex, akechi is terrible, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidders/pseuds/pidders
Summary: Not even in his wildest fantasy could Akechi imagine he would get Joker alone like this.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 2
Kudos: 115





	Paradigm

**Author's Note:**

> Extreme caution due to outright rape. Dubious consent and straight up refusal/unwillingness to have sex during the same exact experience. There's the threat of violence consistent throughout the entire fic.

Joker was in mild disbelief that he was actually considering the offer, but something in the pit of his stomach was nagging at him that it was the only way to save his team. As the leader of their group, it was solely his responsibility to do so-- something he didn't verbally promise, but was naturally expected of a leader. He could almost feel the tension looming over everyone in the room-- all of them were on edge.

“I’ll go with you. As long as you promise to leave them out of this.” he finally answered the brunette.

The immediate chatter of the group's collective interjections, their plea for him to not go, that “There must be another way!” and “We'll never give up!” wiped the brief moment of silence from the room and Akechi almost sneered at the enthusiasm. 

Skull swore loudly, insisting there had to be something else they could do. What an idiot. Oh, but they’d gotten out of much worse together, right? Yet here Joker was, their fearless leader. On his knees with a gun to his head. Completely useless and at his mercy.

Crow smiled wryly, holding the gun steady to Akira's head. 

“I told you earlier, I can be quite persuasive. But don’t worry-- I’m a man of my word. Your leader will see no harm...” he paused, shrugging his shoulders in the slightest way, taking in a breath, as if that would mend the crack he could tell was beginning to chip away at his perfectly rehearsed demeanor. Akechi added quickly, nearly interrupting himself, “but if any of you even think of following us, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet into Joker’s head.” It was harsh, but he wanted to really emphasize his control at this point.

The look on their faces was amusing to say the least and he imagined the moment when they’d see the hole in Kurusu’s head later. Well, if he decided to kill him anyway. It was a tempting decision. He blocked out more of their droning chatter, continuing to add, “Those are my terms. We just need him to close the investigation. The detectives are already expecting us at the station.” 

It was a lie. That had nothing to do with why he wanted to get the Phantom Thief alone, but they were all too stupid to have him figured out at this point. He’s been playing this game for so long, they probably thought this was him at his worst. Something inside him stirred-- the thought of having been manipulating all of them for so long, instead gaining their trust while they blindly put their faith in him and even considered him a teammate. But he pushed that down, focusing on the task at hand.

Most of the group shifted where they stood, clearly at a loss. Of course Joker provided his usual reassurance, something that Akechi was used to during the times he worked with them as a Phantom Thief himself. He insisted that he’d be fine and it would work out and Akechi couldn’t help but to wonder if that was an act he put on as well or if he even believed it at all. Akira was so quiet and reserved outside of the Metaverse, while completely different inside. Meanwhile, Akechi was always the same-- a wreck, flipping between empty and unbalanced and it seemed like he was the only one who had to wear a mask even when he was outside of the Metaverse. This only caused him to hate Akira even more and that hate continued to burn inside him as he played into this game.

“I'll assume we have a mutual understanding then.” Akechi said with a subtle nod, expression blank. He continued, “Joker stays with me. I expect the rest of you to leave the casino from the entrance. Don’t wait around; you will disband for the night. We’ll be leaving shortly after you, so there's no need to worry.” He faked his best genuine smile. Surely they would listen with both him and Joker ordering it. 

“Wait!” Skull said frantically, clearly realizing something suddenly. The group turned towards the blond and Akechi wanted to roll his eyes, waiting for whatever stupidity would follow. “Your gun... Why should we believe it's even real?!”

Akechi laughed. “Why should you believe it's not? It's not my usual weapon, so you can't really be sure, can you? Regardless, there's a police unit waiting for my command, so by all means, feel free to try something if you would all like to be arrested. I sincerely meant it when I said I only want your leader.” 

Skull scoffed loudly in protest. “I can’t believe we’re just gonna let him walk out here with Joker!” he said in exasperation, all the while, shooting a dirty look at Crow who simply stared at him unphased. Akechi despised that idiot the most out of the entire group of Phantom Thieves. He wasn't even even worth faking a smile for. He wasn’t worth the energy of speaking to and barely warranted any acknowledgment at all. Besides, it was already said ad nauseam in the short amount of time how they couldn’t believe that their former teammate betrayed them. He was getting sick of this conversation. 

“I'll only be taking him to the station for questioning.” Akechi reiterated, his annoyance growing as they persisted. Finally, the group murmured among themselves about their choice as Akechi gestured out of the room, trying to look like this was just his job, not something he invested his personal interest in. Panther briefly stopped in the doorway as the rest of the group left the room with words of encouragement to Joker, before softly telling him that they’d all find some way to get him out of this. Then they were gone. Good riddance to trash.

Akechi stood his ground, gun aimed towards Akira’s head as he waited one more moment to be sure they had left, circling the dark haired boy, his gaze fixed on him and his stupidly frustrating blank expression.

“I hope you’re ready.” Akechi couldn’t care less just how void of emotion his voice was at this point. “Get up.” He had no reason to pretend to be anything anymore at this point and it was almost liberating for the boy.

The remaining Phantom Thief said nothing, he simply obeyed the command. As he rose to his feet, Akechi reached up, roughly grabbing him by his collar, shoving him in the direction the other Phantom Thieves walked. It was the only way out of the room-- maybe the only thing he failed to plan accordingly. However, if they followed his instructions, then they were already gone, likely on their way to their initial infiltration route. He doubted they would disobey with a gun pointed to Akira's head, especially after removing any seeds of doubt regarding its authenticity, even while in the Metaverse. The two would not be going the same direction they had gone. Instead, Goro led Akira the opposite way, deeper into the Palace, until finding a safe room isolated on another floor.

Standing in front of the steel double doors, Akira looked confused, slightly concerned even, as he glanced at Akechi before simply stating, “I thought we were going to the police station.”

“Shut up and step inside.”

Joker felt a pang of anxiety hit him. It was that sensation that felt like static electricity building in your chest that only lasted a second before making everything in your body stop and felt like ice was coursing through your veins, branching out to your fingertips. He knew that there was a reason Akechi lied to the group and he knew he had no leverage at the moment. Maybe complying up until this point was a mistake. He could have fought back with his teammates... but they didn’t and now he was powerless to do anything but obey the commands he was given until an opportunity presented itself. Though he didn't know that opportunity would never come.

Akira said nothing, pushing the handle down and stepping inside. He wanted to ask the boy why they were holed up in a safe room. Ask him why he had this nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen here in this room. He didn’t though, he didn’t even turn around to look at the other, who was watching him intently and even though he was faced away, he could feel Akechi's gaze on him as it bore into him.

The brunette smirked, observing the Phantom Thief, absolutely entertained as he watched all the possibilities of his fate shuffle through his head, not even needing to see his face to know that he was holding back the panic that was pent up inside him. And he had no idea just how much power he had over him. So endearing, really. This part of human nature really appealed to him... how most people were so obvious and straightforward about their feelings, unable to hide the truth and put their best self out into the world. The young detective led Akira inside and over to a table in the room, standing directly in front of him as he took a seat casually on the edge of the table, gently stuffing his free hand in his pocket while he pointed his gun at his former leader’s center mass. Akechi tilted his head to the side, expression practically drinking in Joker’s thoughts. Really, his face said it all. Not only under the physical mask he wore, but also the one that was made of faux confidence and assurance that he could still come out on top.

“You may think you have even the slightest idea of what’s about to happen to you, Kurusu.” Akechi laughed dryly, taking his own mask off and setting it next to him on the table. 

Akira shifted at hearing his real name, as if it was something he hadn’t associated with himself in years. While the Phantom Thief was wondering why Crow dropped the code names, Akechi simply didn't find the need to use them. He hated their aliases and found no reason to call him that at the moment as no one could hear them and certainly no one would come and find them. 

Akechi leaned back slightly into the support of the table, “Or... what I’m going to do to you, actually. But first, let me make it clear that if you resist my commands in any way, I’ll kill you in a second and while that’ll be the end of YOUR miserable existence, your teammates won’t be nearly as lucky.”

Joker narrowed his eyes, realizing that Crow (No. Crow was an ally. It was just Goro Akechi now, whoever that really was.) was serious about this... and he automatically assumed the worst. He suspected that maybe this would be torture, that for some reason Akechi wanted him to suffer before he turned him into the police. Maybe it would make his story look better. Maybe this was about fame and recognition and this was the most feasible way to attain that according to whatever plan he had.

“I understand.” Akira said plainly, making sure to sound as calm and collected as he could in order to maintain any sense of command he had left.

It really pissed Akechi off. Even when he didn't have the slightest of bit control in reality, he still tried to steal the spotlight. He'd fix that though. Akechi quickly lunged forward from the table, pressing the barrel of the gun into Akira’s temple with such force that the Phantom Thief stumbled back a step, wincing and turning his head to the side to alleviate the pressure of the weapon. Akira’s eyes went wide, as the confusion set in and Akechi continued his verbal assault on the other. 

“Don’t say you understand! You have no idea.” He nearly growled, patience once again wearing thin.

“Not a clue.” Akira replied to his non-question, his tone dry and borderline sarcastic. It was expected of him to make these sort of comments in the most inappropriate times. But Akechi didn’t appreciate his 'wit' at all, and was almost relieved that he could finally put him in his place for speaking out of line like this. It was so refreshing to be able to grab a fistful of his dark, coarse hair and shove him onto the ground, face first which he instantly objected to with a yelp of pain.

“I apologize. Am I being too rough with you, you fucking trash.” It wasn’t really a question. He didn’t care. Akechi was crouched down next to Akira, who’s face was being pressed into the scuffed linoleum tiles, until he decided to finally let go. On the floor, just where trash belongs. 

“Drop your weapons and remove your equipment. I’m going to teach you all about discipline and respect, Kurusu.”

Joker sat up slowly, seeming ready to comply. Taking his own precautions, Akechi stood behind the thief, pressing the barrel of his gun to the back of his head as a reminder. Just as Akira removed his own handgun, ready to set it down, Akechi tsked at him disappointingly, as if to ask him if he thought he was stupid-- but Joker already learned to keep his mouth shut. The silence was a welcome change.

“Clear it.”

Pointing the barrel to the floor, the Phantom Thief paused for a moment, holding his gun steadily in his hands.

He cleared the ammo from the weapon, collecting and placing it on the floor underneath the table. Then, chamber free of all bullets, he canted the gun slightly so Akechi could see that it was truly clear. The cognition of the gun most likely wouldn't have worked anyway, since Akechi knew it was a fake, but it was better to not take chances. Next, he unholstered his dagger, sliding it across the tiled floor next to where he had placed his gun. He followed suit with all his accessories, including his phone. Finally, he removed his jacket, crudely folding it over itself and tossing it gently next to the rest of his gear. 

“Very good.” Akechi mockingly ruffled the perpetually messy mop of dark hair. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be this easy.” He said with a grin, his shoes tapping against the hard, peeling laminate as he walked back to observe Joker’s demeanor from the edge of the table. Maybe he was just as good, if not better, than Akira at making witty quips at inappropriate times.

Akira averted his gaze, and Akechi assumed he must most likely be disgusted with him, just like the rest of the world would be if they knew his true nature. And even though Akechi knew it was undoubtedly how he deserved to be seen, not by this worthless garbage. He grabbed Joker’s chin roughly, forcing him to look up at him. He gazed into his eyes, through the white and black mask, with a slight scowl.

“No. You will look at me.” He commanded, met with silence from the thief who maintained his calm composure despite the circumstances. It really was an amazing act on his part. “Now, come closer. Oh, and stay on your knees as well. It will be easier for the next part.”

The unease washed over Joker, unsure what the other boy meant by his comment. He knew that in the very least, Akechi was going to hurt him-- Maybe kill him, which is why he was here like this. Like it was some kind of execution and he would die here like this at the hands of someone he had trusted only moments before all of this. Understanding that he had absolutely no leverage, he still had to try to talk his way out of this. He opened his mouth to speak, though he couldn't find the words. He recalled all the pleading shadows he had killed in 'negotiations' in the Metaverse. And he knew that ultimately, there was nothing he could really say to save his life. Instead, Joker cast his gaze to the floor for a few seconds in an attempt to regain his composure as he knew how desperate he was looking to the other boy. 

The feeling of how powerless he really was set in quickly as he took notice to the fact that Akechi was still standing before him, watching with piqued interest. Akira tried to think quickly about what else to say, but he knew his only hope would be to act kindly.... no, act obediently and the rest was out of his hands from there. Talking back and acting out wouldn’t do him any good right now if he wanted to survive... But he had another thought invade the forefront of his mind suddenly, something he struggled to come to terms with or even comprehend, which was why Akechi was hesitating at all. The hesitation wasn't in the brunette's nature and not immediately eliminating a threat after he revealed his plan would be a major risk.

He realized that maybe this was about something else entirely. Joker felt his face grow hot and flushed and only hoped that Akechi wouldn't notice, but between the sickly glow of fluorescent lights and his current position on the floor, he knew it wasn't doing him any favors hiding it. 

Joker wanted to resist and fight back... ideally disappear if it were possible-- anything sounded good except for this. He wasn't certain that he knew what was about to happen, but the thought kept finding it's way to the forefront of his mind despite his efforts to push it out of his head. That Akechi was just trying to scare him into submission. But not THAT type of submission. He wondered if he could negotiate a deal and talk his way out of whatever was about to come. Or even that this would all end in a second and the junior detective would laugh and tell him it was a cruel joke and instead cart him off to jail to confess to being the leader of the Phantom Thieves. 

But Akechi said nothing, watching Akira's internal panic instead, as if he was waiting for something to happen himself. And suddenly, though nothing new had happened to worsen or improve on his current situation, Joker suddenly struggled to do anything but turn his gaze towards the floor, feeling completely humiliated. He waited for Akechi to speak, anything to give him a chance to say something to give him an edge.

“You know.” Crow started, peering down at Joker from the table, looking contemplative for a few long seconds that seemed much closer to a minute. He continued, “This is a good look for you, Kurusu.” 

Akira nearly flinched this time at the use of his real name. There was something about it that made it more real, as if everything before was just a game and nothing mattered except for where he was right now. Like it was happening to the real Akira-- and it was. Not his overconfident ego that he left in the Metaverse... of course Akechi had to taunt him, knowing full well he wanted to speak out, but couldn’t if he wanted to survive this.

“Akechi-kun,” Akira began, even though he never addressed him as such. He hoped Akechi would approve of the name, maybe draw some kind of fondness from him, but he only got a short, mocking laugh followed up with a deadpan expression in response. He persisted, “We’re teammates. I don’t know what I did to you to make you think you have to do... something like this. But please, think about what you’re doing.” 

He refused to break eye contact now, hoping he would get through but the detective was difficult to read, almost as if they were complete strangers. Trying to look and sound as sincere as possible, especially now that he had a moment to speak, he continued, “We should be on each other’s side, not like this.” 

Akechi faltered, looking down toward his shoes for just a split second before meeting Akira’s gaze again.

“Akira, I didn’t think...” his expression changed from something close to regret to complete apathy, “I honestly didn’t think you could be this stupid. Isn’t that Skull’s thing?” 

He thought he would revel in watching the look on the Phantom Thief’s face transform to one of disappointment and defeat, but for some reason, it wasn't as satisfying as he had hoped. He continued anyway, “Do you know who you’re talking to right now? My entire life, I've been telling people what they want to hear. Did you actually believe this would work on me of all people?” Though to be fair, Akira wouldn't have known any of that.

Akira said nothing as he took in the deep, sinking feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach as Akechi proceeded to sigh and shake his head before unbuckling the ornate belt he wore, placing it neatly on a free chair next to him, never once taking his gaze off the other. Joker tried not to react, but the look on his face must have been telling and for the first time, without even saying a word about it, Akechi made his intent known.

Crow looked both smug and amused by all of this and while Akira hated being in this situation, it only fueled his interest in the boy. The feeling of looking so powerless was a stark contrast to his usual confident and borderline cocky demeanor he had as they rushed through Mementos, wrecking havoc on the shadows that resided there. 

It was almost some kind of joke that he was being held at gunpoint like this-- not unlike the way that he would for shadows right before a possible negotiation... although the result would be entirely different in this case. With one last chance to change his former teammates mind, he knew he would have to say something, anything.

“Cr- no, Akechi, wait!” he practically pleaded now.

Akechi froze, his hand in the process of working the button open on his pants, all while still holding his gun in his other hand steadily at the other. Looking entirely unamused, he sighed, the same sigh of frustration one would make over a minor inconvenience. It only increased the surreal feeling that Akira felt about the entire situation.

“You’ve had enough time to save yourself. I’m bored of this game now. I really did try to give you a chance by hearing you out.”

His composure long gone now, Akira would be willing to beg the other to get out of this. Knowing it was literally his last chance to reason with the detective, and nothing at all coming to mind-- so uncharacteristic of him in general, he simply blurted out, “Don’t you think it would be better to walk away from this as friends? We were teammates. I trust you, Akechi, and I know that this isn't you at all.”

Akechi groaned, mockingly rolling his eyes at Joker, “That... was your last resort, Kurusu, really? I was counting on you to convince me this time. How disappointing.” The brunette finally unbuttoned the front of his pants, with only slight difficulty using his one free hand as he clutch the gun in the other.

“I’m far beyond that point now. Let’s get this over with.” He pulled his already hard cock out from his pants before roughly grabbing a fist full of Akira's hair, pulling him closer. The entire conversation he’d had with the Phantom Thieves up until this point had been most satisfying and this was all just the result of that-- getting what they both deserved. The manipulation, the false hope, the fear he detected in Joker's eyes behind the mask. All of that wasn't even the best part about this.

Akira, wincing in pain from his hair being roughly tugged yet again, turned his head away slightly, far from having the willingness or desire to do this with the brunette. He could never be okay with this and while it was no longer difficult to conclude exactly what Akechi wanted, he was unsure if he could force himself to begin to do it. Akechi let go, roughly pushing Akira back from him and the darker haired boy almost fell backwards from the force, but managed to catch his balance. He instantly averted his eyes again, trying to pretend that nothing would come of the annoyed sound Akechi made under his breath and his earlier promises to shoot him if he disobeyed. The Phantom Thief braced himself for the sound of the bullet, wondering if he would hear the gunshot before it killed him or if he would just cease to exist. 

It never came. 

Instead, Akechi growled, “Why the fuck do you think I took it out? What makes you think you even have a say in this at all?!” his voice was dripping in anger, feeling the sudden urge to smash Akira's skull open and spill all his fight and vigor out onto the cheap linoleum so no one would ever get the blood stains out of the cracks. The memory of him would be lost in this room and that was all Akechi wanted now.

He couldn’t help but to look up at Akechi after he threw his fit, waiting for him to do or say something. And all he wanted to do was explain that he just couldn’t do this, but knew there was no point anymore. He wasn’t sure how much more he could push Akechi at this point without facing real and severe injury or death. He squeezed his eyes closed, as if that would help to compose himself or help him to find the strength to get through this with a new resolve. 

“Look at me.” The brunette said sternly, though much calmer than before. “This is the last chance you get before I kill you and your entire team. And who knows, maybe they’ll get a similar end, down to the very last detail.” Akechi smiled and while it was just a smile, there was something poisonous and crooked about it. He couldn't help but to visualize the aftermath of not only himself, but his friends whether or not if what Akechi said was true. Akira wasn't even sure if that was Akechi's style or not, but he also never thought he’d be kneeling in front of the boy, contemplating how to suck his dick. 

It didn't matter, if there was even a chance he could save them from this, he would do it. Joker steeled his nerves for what he convinced himself would be the last time necessary and knew he just needed to get it over with. Opening his mouth, he hesitantly took in the tip of Akechi's cock, trying everything in his power to pretend this wasn’t as fucked up as it actually was and for the first time since he has been alone with his ex-teammate, he honestly hoped the others weren’t going to come back to save him-- before all of this was over, a least. He would never want them to see him like this. As he slowly worked more of the brunette's length into his mouth, he wondered if there were any kind of tricks he could do to make this end more quickly.

He pulled back for a brief moment to breathe, gliding his tongue up the shaft from its base until he reached the head, gently licking the tip. Akira continued, taking the entirety of his hard member back into his mouth, working it in and out, doing what he could to increase the pressure slightly with his tongue and lips. He couldn’t bear to look Akechi in the eyes, feeling nothing aside from shame and humiliation, instead keeping focused on his task, hoping it would be good enough to distract him from his own feelings of degradation. He was grateful he had his mask still, making him feel slightly less exposed to the other.

It didn't help that Akechi made zero noises or even said anything to him at all during the likely inexperienced blowjob he was receiving and while Akira was glad for a brief moment to be free from Akechi's patronizing commentary, something inside him really craved some sort of praise or acknowledgment on his effort... anything to know he was doing good and the brunette was enjoying it, which almost turned his stomach that he cared at all what the other boy thought or felt about this. He resisted the temptation to look for clues on Akechi's face.

“Mhm, move faster.” Akechi said softly, with the same kindness he used to talk to Akira with when they were friends. Though by now, he knew the brunette has proven to be entirely unhinged and although his tone was gentle, this was a thinly veiled demand and anything could happen if he failed to obey.

He tried to move slightly faster, taking Akechi's cock deep into his mouth, miscalculating the length he was taking in and almost immediately felt his throat tighten up, nearly gagging himself on it. It was an odd sensation he hadn’t experienced from something going down his throat. The fact that he was somehow proficient enough to do this without actually choking or struggling to breathe was a bit of a shock to the dark haired boy. Finally, through the sloppy, wet sounding noises in the otherwise painfully quiet room, Akira could hear Akechi's breathing slightly increase with occasional soft sighs and moans under his breath. He took note of the vague and unknown taste that teased his mouth-- what he could only assume was precum. Akira felt his heartbeat increase as he wondered what would happen when Akechi finished.

“I told you before that I want you to look at me.”

Akira could barely recall when he had said it, but still hummed in acknowledgment, and as he shifted his gaze upwards to meet Akechi’s, he found it somehow easier to maintain eye contact after what seemed like the worst of things. Still, Akira felt nothing but shame, as he was sure he looking quite shameful with his enemy's cock in his mouth.

“Your mouth feels amazing, Akira.” Akechi tilted his head back slightly with a soft pleasured moan, making sure he never once took his eyes or handgun off the other. He stroked his dark hair, almost petting him more gently than the other thought he was capable of. “Mhm, you’re so good at this.” he added, as if he knew exactly what Akira wanted to hear-- the exact phrases he needed, whether the brunette was sincere or not meant nothing at this point. Akechi found something enthralling about watching Joker get him off as he wore his mask, taking note of his expression through the black marks that allowed him to witness the shame he couldn't hide in his eyes. He thought he should enjoy it while it lasted, anyways, since he wasn't planning on making him wear it for much longer.

Akira continued to observe as Akechi removed his gloves one at a time with his teeth, as to not take his hand off his gun, which was still pointed in Akira's direction. Then, finally he pulled back, telling Akira that was enough as he gripped his cock in his hands, slowly working himself now in the absence of the boy's mouth.

“Stand up.” He ordered. 

Akira complied, happy to be off his knees, which ached from the unforgiving floor. But he knew that this couldn't be over and before he had a chance to even wonder what was next, Akechi gave him a new task.

“Strip.”

That sinking feeling returned full on and while the brunette was perfectly clear, Akira still felt unsure and unwilling to make a move.

“Take off your clothes.” Akechi reiterated with an obvious tone of frustration in his voice. Keeping his eyes on Joker, he pulled out a chair from under the table and sat down with a sigh.

“You really don’t like being given orders, is that right? I’ll be sure to remember that.”

“I-” He paused, finding himself as a loss for words once again. Instead, he simply complied and began by removing his gloves. The same bright red ones he always wore. The ones he would constantly fidget with or adjust while he was in the Metaverse. Normally, he would be glad to have them off, but not under these circumstances. Next, he unfastened his boots, removing them one by one. Then, the vest and black button down shirt he had on. He seemed to fumble with every button without fail in anticipation of whatever would be happening next-- which wasn't difficult to assume. He piled everything up by his jacket and accessories scattered on the floor around them.

Even without glancing at Akechi, he could tell he was being watched, but as he looked up to meet the other's gaze, it was clear he was being observed as if it was the most uninteresting, mundane thing in the world. He paused with only his pants left to be removed. It was all he had left until he was completely exposed (aside from his mask), which under other circumstances would be a non-issue, but this wasn't under 'other circumstances'.

As he realized he had been hesitating, he quickly went back to his pants, unbuttoning them in an attempt to play off his unease. Besides, he didn't want to give Akechi any satisfaction that he was uncomfortable, even though he knew it was apparent. He glanced at the brunette sitting in silence, sizing him up while staring him down, doing an outstanding job hiding whatever thoughts were going through his head with arguably the best poker face Akira had seen.

Akechi took in Akira's physique... which while mostly average, did have quiet a bit of muscle tone to him for a highschool student. He was also fairly tall-- more so than other boys their age. Akechi, glancing down between the other's legs, wondered how Akira's cock compared to his own as far as size goes when he got hard. Though he had absolutely no intention of touching him like that anyways. This was meant to hurt him. To make him suffer while Akechi did whatever he wanted to him to get himself off at Akira's expense.

“Your mask.” Akechi stated. Akira took it off and set it down with his own belongings without a fight.

“Since you've made it clear that you don’t follow instructions very well, I’d suggest you reconsider and listen closely as this next part is for your own benefit. First, get on the table and start fingering yourself.” Akechi said this as if it were just part of everyday conversation. Akira was taken aback by the brazen command.

Akira had already learned what refusing orders resulted in, but he was so appalled at the thought of the act, let alone doing it on full display, he found himself hesitating once again. Besides, he had literally no experience in touching himself like this and even if he did, it’s not like he carried a bottle of lube around with him.

“As I’ve already explained, all of this is for your benefit. So do what you need to do so that it won’t be as painful for you-- and I promise, it’s really going to hurt.” Akechi said with a smirk, his hand wandering down between his legs, occasionally stroking his still-hard length as he took in Akira visually, getting off on his internalized anguish.

The dark haired boy tried to remember that this was all for the safety of his team, seeing as Akechi had threatened them. That he was just doing this for their benefit in some obscure way. This was just another sacrifice for them, regardless of how much worse this would be than the blowjob... he simply said nothing, positioning himself so that he was sitting on the edge of the table. Akira paused, trying to figure out the best way to do this and how he could get comfortable and relaxed enough to carry on. The thought that this was all in preparation for something else wriggled up to the forefront of his mind, stabbing him with a pang of anxiety, but he couldn't even focus on what may happen in the following moments. Akechi must have read his expression again.

“To begin, it would probably help if you lay back and tried to relax,” Akechi said with a chuckle. The brunette continued, “then use your mouth to get your fingers wet. Really wet. Oh, you also may want to touch yourself and try to enjoy it. It’ll make it much easier on you, especially for later.”

Akira hated how nonchalant and friendly the inflection in Akechi's voice was. Like he was giving him notes from a class he missed or tips about a certain hobby they shared. Although it didn’t occur to him to jerk off to try to get into it, so at least that was something to consider trying. He reached down to grasp himself firmly by the base of his cock, not wanting to waste any more time hearing tips on how to get fucked as painlessly as possible from Akechi. He started slowly the exact same way he always does, working himself up and down smoothly. He thought about his guilty pleasure, something he wouldn't have ever wanted to admit to anyone: his female teammates in their Phantom Thieves suits. Just how conforming their outfits were clinging to their perfect, slender bodies against every curve and contour. He closed his eyes until he was hard enough to quicken the pace and tighten his grip, though only slightly. 

The familiar feeling of pleasure and enjoyment of the process working up to climax was only somewhat comforting as he tried his best to relax and clear his mind, although the thoughts of what was to come always seemed to be preoccupying his focus, like a blaring alarm. After another moment of touching himself, he thought he could at least try to... well, touch himself in that totally new and foreign way. 

He remembered what Akechi had advised him to do by first getting his fingers wet and leaning back. With a shaky sigh, he took his hand, moving it to his mouth, but stopped before proceeding. How many fingers was he supposed to use? He thought he’d probably only be able to use one to start, though would that be enough for full penetration later? Looking at his hand as if it was a complex puzzle, he decided he would try his middle and index finger to start and see how things felt. He apprehensively put both fingers in his mouth, trying to get them as wet as possible to make the next part easier on his body.

The skin felt so much more course than expected, though he couldn't exactly recall a time when he would have had them in his mouth like this. After a few seconds of sucking and licking, he removed his fingers, slick and glistening with his own saliva under the soft buzzing florescent light. He could almost hear his heartbeat and wondered if Akechi could hear it too. Akira leaned back positioning himself, back flat against the tabletop, moving his legs up for leverage and better access to his opening. He placed his hand over his entrance and slowly pushed his middle and index finger against himself he was met with immediate resistance. Not wanting to force both in, He thought maybe he’d be successful with just one finger instead. 

He tried just his middle finger alone, pushing against his opening, as he was met with a persistent discomfort, and while the resistance from before remained, it was a bit easier to force it inside with just one finger. He gasped softly at the unexpected pressure that was layered underneath the pain of the intrusion. He slowly pulled his hand back, pulling out not entirely, but to the first knuckle. He took a deep breath before trying to insert himself back inside, the pain seemingly worse than the first attempt. Any saliva that he was able to coat himself with was already useless and he felt like he had already failed, but needed to find the resolve to continue. He took a couple of breaths, now readying both of his seriously underprepped fingers before he pushed himself in forcefully, met again with a sharp pain that pulsed throughout his entrance, causing him to cry out again, he squeezed his eyes shut as he reflexively removed his fingers entirely.

“I- I can’t.” He pleaded, voice dripping in desperation and pain, completely aware of how vulnerable he was in this moment. He didn’t even want to look at Akechi again, even though he knew the brunette had been watching him the entire time so far. He thought that he had already reached the peak of humiliation he could have felt before, but he underestimated himself.

“So then you’re ready?” Akechi asked candidly, expression deadpan and ignoring Akira's pleading tone. Honestly, he found something adorable about Akira's struggle throughout his first time. And he was guiding him along, like he was truly a part of something special that they both now shared. Something about it made him want to break him more than ever now. 

“Or,” Akechi began, redirecting the gun towards Akira’s head, “I could make some new holes for you you'd prefer.” He smiled sweetly, the same one he reserved for answering those vapid interview questions about his favorite dessert or his blood type and star sign.

“That was a joke, of course.” Akechi clarified, realizing that it may have gone over the other's head since it wasn’t exactly the first time he had threatened to shoot him in the last hour.

If it was a joke, there wasn't anything funny about it. Akira responded by propping himself up off the table, wincing slightly as he sat back up on the edge. He was about to speak, when Akechi suddenly stood up, taking the few steps to close the distance between the two. 

“It's fine. Back on the floor then. I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed that you’re so inexperienced at this.” That was a total lie, he actually really enjoyed it. “You know... it's your own fault that this is causing you so much discomfort. Besides, it's not going to be much better for me if you're not willing to make some sacrifices and push though the pain.” He added introspectively, secretly hoping the comment would cause the other to react.

Akira was instantly annoyed that Akechi was implying that he was somehow at fault for this, as if Akechi hadn't planned for this to happen. He instead chose to say nothing, lowering himself to the floor on his knees. Before Akechi even had to direct him, he took the brunette's cock back into his mouth for the second time. He assumed there was some mutual understanding between them that the next part would involve both of their participation. Akira instantly recalled the pain he inflicted upon himself and found the motivation to get the other boy's cock as slick as possible with his mouth.

Akechi laughed at his vigor this time around-- despite the other's seemingly obvious frustration, he was doing his best, likely hoping that Akechi would cum before he got a chance to fuck him. Putting a hand on Akira's head to guide himself farther down his throat, he suddenly felt some unknown, yet vaguely familiar feeling deep in his chest. There was some unexpected feeling of uncertainty about this situation, that maybe it would be better under different circumstances in some other reality, but he knew it was too late to go back on it now and there could only be one way for things to end. He did want this and exactly the way that it was playing out. It was perfect.

“I,” the brunette faltered for only a split second, almost as if he was unsure of what he was doing right now. Playing it off as part of being lost in the moment, he continued, “I guess you can learn to listen. Keep going until I tell you to stop.” He said, sighing softly as Joker worked more of his length inside his mouth, though the boy was focusing more on trying not to gag through the persistent and steady feeling that threatened the back of his throat.

There was something about the silent room, filled only with that same lewd sound from before with the occasional sounds of affirmation from Akechi as he worked on getting him off. It genuinely repulsed him, but there was something else along with that, and for the first time, he felt himself get this bizarre rush of perverse excitement that made his own cock throb at the thought of being used this way. As much as he wanted to snuff the feeling out entirely, he couldn't think of anything except this exact moment. As terrible as Akechi truly revealed himself to be, Joker couldn't help but to recall the boy's other self-- the one he had pretended to be before this night. As if that memory of Akechi made this all okay with his soft spoken tone and absolute brilliance.

“That’s enough. Get up.” His voice broke through Akira's contemplation.

Even without looking at him, Joker could practically hear the slight smile painted on his face through his voice and it only added to his conflicted thoughts about the boy. He watched as Akechi reach into his front pocket, pulling out a... something.

“Here.” He said, offering the item up, placing it in Akira's hand.

Akira took the item without question, turning it in his hand to read the label on the front. Was he fucking serious?! He glared at Akechi, who looked on with an amused expression and Akira had to literally bite his tongue as to not say anything to worsen things for him. He couldn't resist.

“You had this the entire time?!” Akira growled, the agitation in his voice being fueled by his disgust with not only Akechi himself, but the fact that he had the bottle of lube with him, yet chose to not mention it before, instead opting to watch Akira suffer more than was necessary for his own sick enjoyment.

Akechi scoffed. “Of course. I did know ahead of time that it would be needed. You can use it now that you’ve earned it. Consider yourself lucky that I’m in such a good mood. You’ve done nothing but fight me this entire evening.”

Akira was fuming, standing in place gripping the bottle in his hand and considering his very limited options. He chose to collect himself and knew if he had done this before without the bottle, then it couldn't possibly be worse with it, feeling hopeful that it would solve all his problems. He got back into position on the table, flipping open the cap and squeezing out a decent amount of liquid to coat those same two fingers in, the gooey consistency of the liquid running down his fingers and onto his hand, dripping off into his torso. He took his other hand, wiping the spill off on the back of his hand, but the trail of slickness only spread and remained on his skin. 

With little mental preparation, he found himself holding his breath as he prodded himself again, the cool liquid easing the same resistance from before away as he slowly slipped inside. It was almost an entirely new sensation with the lube, though the restricting tightness was still there along with the pain, it was nothing like it felt without it. The boy bit his lip, slowly rocking his hand to move his middle finger in and out of his entrance and though it was his own hands, it still felt nothing short of being violated.

He struggled to determine if the pain he was feeling now was from before or right from this moment. Probably both. He pulled out, adding another generous squirt of the artificial smelling liquid (some indiscernible sweet scent) to coat his fingers again. With both his middle and index finger now ready, he pressed them against himself again, taking another deep breath and then quickly exhaling before pushing both fingers as deep inside as he could. Akira inhaled sharply, trying not to make any more noise than necessary as to not inspire Akechi in any way, but he found it near impossible.

Using both fingers was so much more difficult for him than just one. As he was working his fingers in and out, he considered how many fingers he would need to match Akechi's size... logically, that would be the best thing he could do to make this as painless as possible. Working his fingers in and out, something hit him like a bolt of electricity. It was an unexpected wave of pleasure, rising up through the muddled emotions he felt, the discomfort, and even the pain. And in a brief second, it subsided and left him wanting nothing but to experience that feeling again. He felt his face flush as he realized he moaned out loud after that first wave of euphoria that he had attained. And despite everything, from the humiliation and the fact he initially had no say in the matter, that feeling was more important to him. 

He continued the same motion, pushing into himself as deep as he could, desperate to replicate what he did to find that same spot inside him. Again, another rush of pleasure, drowning out the pain for only a second and freeing his mind of everything. He was ready this time, biting his lip to silence himself, but it was nearly impossible. He hadn't even noticed how hard he was, his cock begging to be touched, betraying his feelings of absolutely not wanting any of this from the beginning. But now... 

He couldn't sift through his own disordered thoughts, the shame of the act no longer weighing on him. And Akechi... He couldn't help but to keep thinking of his motive for doing this. If his ex-teammate really wanted him to suffer, why would he bring lube with him to make any of this less painful? Of course logically, he knew that it would be painful for both of them if he didn't have it, he couldn't help but to wonder what the brunette was thinking and if there was more to it than his own benefit. Logically, there must have been some other reason, right? But he was far from being able to think logically and brushed the thought aside. 

His senses were going haywire and every time he felt that rush of pleasure from deep inside of him, it was like weaving another layer of longing and needing to be touched back and forth on top of each other. He quickly grasped his cock, jerking himself off as he fingered himself simultaneously, trying to find some kind of rhythm to push himself over the edge. Even though he knew Akechi would likely intervene before then, he didn't even care. Though he still couldn't help but to glance up at the other, locking eyes with their respective lustful gazes and somehow, in the moment of it all, he wanted Akechi to touch him like he was touching himself.

Once again, he found himself reaching for the bottle to apply another generous amount of liquid with new resolve to add a third finger to his routine. He rubbed his fingers against his hole, sliding just the two back in and out one time, gauging his own readiness by the amount of pain he felt resonate throughout his core. Even though he would feel the occasional jolt of pleasure from hitting his sensitive prostate, there was just no way that even with lube, he could be adjusted enough to disregard the pain from stretching himself like this. He could only hope that the good feelings would help to get him through the pain, as he was managing before with just the two. He tested the three together now, very slowly inserting them inside himself, gasping at the feeling of being so full. It was so tight, uncomfortably so and his body resisted the intrusion, causing him to feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of Akechi's thickness and length taking him. Somehow, Akira hoped that having the other be in control would make it easier on him and even if the pain was there, it was reassuring to know soon it would be out if his hands... Literally.

Akechi was still watching Akira and working his own cock to a combination of the display in front of him and the thought of being so in control of Joker that he managed to force him to violate himself like this. Though he knew that the Phantom Thief was going to resist him, he wasn't so sure how long it would have taken to get to this point. Meanwhile, his friends were likely despairing over the thought of him being captured, all because he was so good at manipulating them this whole time. 

Feeling as though his clothes were suddenly too restrictive on him, Akechi decided he was now completely disinterested in waiting a second longer just watching his prey get off without his own participation. The brunette stood up, hastily unbuttoning the gold clasps on his jacket and shrugged it off his bare torso. Then he slipped his shoes off, followed by his pants, which were already unbuttoned and easily removable, and so he did, just before folding the garments and setting them in a makeshift pile on a chair. 

Even though he wasn't necessarily uncomfortable in this particular situation, Akechi felt uncomfortable in general-- just with living every day life around other people. He felt so out of place in his own body. While he looked seemingly normal on the outside, it was like the “him” on the inside was a total mess that didn’t match with the side of him he showed the rest of the world at all. Sometimes he felt like it would be easier to just slice himself open and let the real him crawl out of the shell of a person he pretended to be. He considered this scenario and the look on everyone's face seeing how he really was-- even if it was just a wild and imaginary metaphor for how he felt, it felt more natural to identify as some kind of monster than whatever he actually was. Shaking the thought, he went back to his task, ready to take his former leader and fuck any bit of shame he had left out of the boy. 

Akechi grasped his neglected cock, jerking himself off in the anticipation of finally getting to do the one thing he'd find himself lost in the the thought of doing every. Single. Night. For weeks now, actually. Though he could remember the night the thought slithered its way into his skull and seeped deep down into his brain, he wasn't sure why he suddenly became interested in ruining and disgracing Joker like this. While he may have first tried to cleanse the thought of completely humiliating his “leader” in this way, he eventually grew to embrace the thought instead. He had come up with dozens of scenarios of how it would happen, but this was by far his favorite, much better than the last time he thought about having Akira in this position. He didn’t even put up a fight after he threatened to kill those worthless teammates-- admittedly, that was another fantasy he had that he wouldn’t have minded making come true.

Joker had heard him fidgeting and knew the sounds were him stripping down, a sign that the worst of it was about to come. He knew that Akechi was going to fuck him and anxiously waited for that moment to happen. He looked up at the brunette as he grabbed the bottle, squirting the liquid onto his cock, hand cupped underneath to catch any that dripped down his length before rubbing it in as he moved his hand once again along the length. After a few strokes, he added a little more for good measure. Joker thought maybe he did it to relieve some of the pain he would feel and it seemed somehow Akechi had noted that he was watching.

“... that wasn’t for you.” Akechi quickly disclaimed. He didn’t want this... trash... thinking he was trying to make it easier on him. It was obvious that any friction would hurt him as well, so of course he would do what he could to lessen any discomfort he would personally feel. Though of course Akira would still benefit from the extra lubrication and maybe somehow he didn't mind if Akira wasn't in complete pain... but Akechi couldn’t have him thinking anything else.

Akira didn’t know the best way to lay or if he needed to bend over the table for this to work. He hoped Akechi knew and would guide him, but he didn’t say anything. Akechi, standing at the edge of the table, took his hand, slick with lube and wiped it along Akira's chest, almost as if he were disgusted by the greasy marks, despite his prior act of slathering the liquid over his cock.

“Move closer to the edge.” Akechi directed, and even though it was simply stated, everything sounds like a threat when you have a gun pointed at your face. He complied, moving as close to the edge as he could. Taking his free hand, Akechi took Akira's leg, putting it up and resting it on his shoulder, giving him full access to Akira's entrance.

It was easily the most degrading thing the brunette could have done to him, aside from actually fucking him, especially in this context. Akira felt beyond uncomfortable, emasculated, and vulnerable from the position he was currently in alone. The shame he had managed to overcome before slipped back into place and he wondered what Akechi thought of him right now. He almost thought about his teammates, but didn't even want to consider them with how things were at the moment. Akira could feel the tension rising, unable to hide the look of worry from reading on his face as he felt Akechi prod at his entrance with his slick cock. His anxiety peaked and he wanted to say something, but couldn't and only hoped there would be no pain and maybe he could end up enjoying what was about to happen in some way.

“Relax.” Akechi simply stated, with no emotion or comfort or... anything in his voice. It was like his words were being read to him from a script of sorts, despite him having said them himself.

He watched Akechi groan in pleasure as he pushed inside way too quickly and Akira cried out some string of words, begging the other boy to stop as the sensation he felt was so much more intense this time. Though he expected it would be. No matter how much preparation he had done before, he didn’t ever think there would be enough lube in the world to get used to this feeling.

Akechi dug his fingers into Akira's hip to hold the other still with his free hand as the dark haired boy squirmed on the table, finding it impossible to stay still through the feeling of Akechi filling him up, his entire length buried deep inside of him. 

“Do you want me to shoot you?” Akechi asked, using the gun once again as a reminder for Akira to be complicit, pressing the barrel into his cheek.

Akira ignored the question, unable to answer. Instead, he only pleaded with the brunette, ready, no desperate-- to do literally anything but this. 

A brand new thought crossed the junior detective's mind, something he hadn't considered before, but he thought Akira would have sounded so much more appealing if he begged for death in the form of a bullet. He considered all the terrible things he would need to do to make him ask for that, but again, now wasn't the time for that, at least not at this moment.

Still, Akechi scoffed at Akira's desperation, pulling himself out slowly and almost entirely before thrusting back into the other, who felt nothing but pain from the rough, cruel motion. He knew Akechi was doing it intentionally, decidedly done with giving him time to adjust to the feeling and only wanted to cause as much pain as possible, but Akira still couldn't wrap his head around why Akechi felt he deserved this kind of punishment.

“You’re so stubborn, Kurusu. I gave you time to get ready for this. I even gave you lube after your pathetic display.” He laughed mockingly, “You never fail to disappointment me.” Akechi gripped Akira's hip again, this time wondering what the bruise would look like later-- probably the least of Akira's worries regarding pain. Akechi glanced at the gun, which was just an inconvenience at this point and he knew it never was actually necessary for any of this, but enjoyed threatening the other with it. The brunette swore under his breath, sliding the handgun just out of reach unexpectedly, now using both hands to grip Akira's hips tightly so he wouldn’t be able to squirm away like before. This would be so much easier.

Akira watched as Akechi rocked into him, the pain incomparable to anything he’d felt, a combination of being violated so roughly and just the nature of what they were doing being far too much for someone with zero experience. They locked eyes, Akechi's gaze persistent and almost piercing through him, while Akira had a pained expression on his face, occasionally squeezing his eyes shut while he tried to separate the pain from the waves of pleasure as Akechi now moved in a rhythm to hit that sweet spot inside of him. He felt his cock twitch, and he reached down to touch it, but Akechi suddenly snatched his hand away by the wrist, pinning it above his head onto the table before deciding to do the same with his other hand holding both his wrists down with one hand. Again, he couldn't help but to wonder what the physical bruises would look like on the other boy and only wished he would be able to see how they'd look later.

“You love getting fucked, don’t you?” Akechi asked, punctuating with a soft moan.

“Please” Akira begged, not specifying if he was begging for him to continue, or to stop. He suddenly felt Goro release his wrist and slow his pace until he paused still fully inside him. Then, while grabbing onto Akira by the hips, he pulled him roughly back closer to the edge of the table. 

Akira could feel the pain resonating from what felt like the entirety of his lower body, just as the other stopped for the moment. Akira wondered if it was finally over, but he knew that it wasn't. He watched Akechi carefully as he brushed part of his bangs from his face with the back of his hand, damp with sweat.

Akechi's breath was heavy, as he glared down at Akira, as if he could read his mind. “This isn’t even close to being over for you.”

Akechi wondered about Akira and whether or not he was a virgin. But the answer didn't matter. He was to him and he was right now, this time. The thought of taking his virginity so forcefully could have alone pushed him over the edge, but he didn't want this to end. Not yet. He looked down at Joker, who normally looked so smug and self-assured... but now he almost looked hurt and Akechi almost wished he had left his mask on just to see him this way.

When Akira was “Joker”, the act that he put on was polar opposite of the real Akira. He thought it was only fitting to make him take the mask off earlier. This was all Akira anyway. He couldn’t imagine “Joker” writhing underneath another person, letting himself get fucked into a complete mess like this. And that smirk, the confidence... it was nowhere to be found anymore. It was disgusting because Akechi thought only he knew the real Akira. He didn’t need to open up to him and be friends to see through all that bullshit. Friends were trash anyway.

Maybe they had more in common than he thought, but it didn’t matter. He was going to ruin him and crack that facade he wore permanently. He’d be just as damaged as himself by the end of this. And looking down at Akira squirming as he got fucked and just accepted it now, no longer able or willing to put up a fight, God, it just made him want to ruin him even more. Akechi ran a hand along Akira's cheek, cupping his face in his hand, staring blankly at his expression. Something about it was just unexpectedly making him want something else from him. Something he knew he couldn’t get, even in his fantasies and dreams. He tried to ignore the thought, but couldn't push it from the forefront of his mind.

Akira groaned, the feeling of pain rushing back as Akechi, much more gently now, rocked his hips into the boy. Still, it was almost worse in some ways how Akechi was considerably slowing down, though still pumping into his entrance fast enough to hear the sound of skin slapping against his and their combined slickness consistently beating in rhythm while their uneven breathing, cries and moans peppered the air as well. He couldn’t take much more of this if he wanted to do anything else to him. But something in his thoughts made him question if this was what he wanted anymore at all and the whole situation was becoming a distorted mess in his mind.

Akechi moaned, looking down at Akira's physical reaction to all of this-- the position that he had him in. He wondered how much Akira must hate him now. If he didn’t already before any of this, surely he did now. Akira wasn’t sure how much more he could take as his own cock was hard enough to press against his skin, begging for attention. Akechi convinced himself that if he were to stop now, something inside Akira would miss him, even if he was only good for making him cum. He felt excited at the thought, that he would actually be needed and wanted. Watching the other completely lost in the pleasure, from the way his nose would scrunch up as he winced in pain, to the sharp inhales he’d take when Akechi thrust into him perfectly. He found himself getting way more into than he could have anticipated. He just liked the way he looked. 

Aside from this moment, Akechi often caught himself thinking of Akira during nights like this. Mostly about killing him or hurting him, but occasionally he just thought about the boy and the “what-ifs”. He was completely conflicted about his feelings for the Phantom Thief and while this was his fantasy, he couldn't help but to wonder how things could be between them in other contexts. Now wasn't the time to get caught up in these thoughts. He was getting so close.

The feeling of Akira's body completely engulfing him, it was so much tighter than he'd imagined. Looking down, watching Akira moan, he suddenly wondered what it would be like if he cried out his name. The damage was already done and he didn’t think he’d ever hear anything like that from the other's beautiful lips, parted slightly as he gasped and cried out soft sounds that Goro was eliciting from him. God, he must have been hurt so much. Akechi wished that-- well, never mind. He dismissed the thought immediately.

Akira's breath caught in his throat, as he felt himself getting close now, unable to speak as every muscle in his body tensed up, bringing him to a point where everything in him felt spiraling out of control. He looked up at Akechi, reaching a hand up to touch the brunette's face gently, more gently than anything he deserved. He was feeling disgusted, suppressing the wave of nausea he felt when he looked down at Akira's bruised body underneath him. It was too late to not want this anymore after everything they had been through together.

Akechi felt Akira tense up, gasping at the increase in pressure seemingly grasping his cock, knowing that the other was on the edge, as was he. He wanted to tell him to cum, tell him he deserved it, he worked so hard for it. As if that could mend anything at this point. He touched Akira and while he didn't intend for this, he wanted him to have it and couldn't even control his own thoughts anymore.

“Cum for me, Akira.” he said it out loud in the empty room, listening to the other boy’s pleasure uncoil as he cried out so softly, cumming on his own stomach, several thick ropes of cum spraying out with a thick bead slowly dripping down his cock and settling onto his balls.

Akira lay panting on the table as Akechi's pace increased, presumably for the last time, getting ready to finish. He watched Akira’s high slowly fade away as he sunk back into the reality of everything. Back to despising him for being a disgusting creature. His true nature.

Akechi thought about how maybe Akira's contempt for him rivaled his own. The brunette felt the pleasure rising up from his core until he couldn’t contain it. He thrust forward, jerking a few more times into Akira as he released his seed deep inside the younger boy. Still watching the other, underneath him, not even caring if Akira would grab the gun right now and fucking end him so his last moments would be this calm and euphoric. Any chance of feeling sentimental or needing further human contact instantly dissolved with the end of his orgasm, leaving the brunette feeling empty and absolutely disgusted with himself.

Akechi squeezed his eyes shut, feeling what should have been tears welling up, but there was nothing but the familiar hollow feeling he was accustomed to. Breathing heavily, he looked down at the cum on his bare stomach and hand, as the disgust he felt with himself peaked for a moment until the post-fantasy desire for Akira crept in next, longing for some kind of legitimate relationship with the boy, probably the opposite of what he just fantasized about. This was far from the first time he imagined them like this, and he could never manage to not end with some kind of sentimental feeling that seemed to persist even after he came. Akechi got up from his bed to go clean himself up.

He thought about how he could get Joker alone like this so many nights. How maybe he could have him a different way and it wasn't too late for him. Sometimes he thought about living a normal life and having a normal relationship with Akira, even if it wasn't sexual at all-- he would be more than okay with that. But ultimately, he knew he could never follow through and maybe he didn’t want to. Instead, he’d stick to the original plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Sorry for the weird 3rd person POV this was written in. I wanted to write from Akechi's POV, but still give clear thought into what Akira was thinking, as this was Akechi's delusion and all. This also explains some inconsistencies in the beginning as there are some things that during the time this fic takes place that Akechi couldn't possibly know; ie: the Phantom Thieves knowing that he would eventually betray them.


End file.
